


Locked Doors

by IPreferTVOverLife



Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Gen, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:14:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1927953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IPreferTVOverLife/pseuds/IPreferTVOverLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody will ever be the same, not after seeing behind those locked doors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locked Doors

The light on the ceiling flickers and dims, the fan crackles with every hum, and a single drop of water drops out of the faucet every few seconds. The floor is stained and scratched and the toilet seat is broken. When she looks into the broken mirror, she doesn’t recognize the person who stares back. The door is locked. She stares into her eyes as she slices her wrist. Not a tear is shed. The red pools up on her arm and begins dripping onto the floor. She makes another mark. She finally breaks eye contact with herself long enough to stare at the mess she’s made. She keeps going. Each cut is deeper, each cut brings more blood. The colour begins to fade from her face. Her head is too heavy. She falls to her knees with a painful thud. 

He doesn’t know what to do anymore. He runs up stairs to his room and slams the door. Nobody is home. He locks the door. He digs trough his closet, shoves the coats and shoes and sports items to the side. He finds a rope; it went to an old volleyball net. He doesn’t know many knots. Tears well up in his eyes. He settles on a knot that looks like it will hold up. He ties the other end of the rope to the ceiling fan. He stands on the end of the bed. The room is so perfect and neat; his mother cleaned and tidied it up earlier. He slides his head in the loop and closes his eyes. 

Nobody notices her when she slips away to use the restroom. The silver plated handles and blue trimmed towels made her look rich. A three pane mirror sat over the marble counters. The door was locked. She pulled the bottle out of her purse and slid into the tub. She turned on the water and sat down with all her clothes still on. She opened the bottle and poured swallowed a handful of pills dry. She laid back and closed her eyes. Eventually the tub was full and her eyelids were too heavy to open, even if she wanted to. 

A man’s voice boomed from the other side of the door. There was no answer. He turned the knob, it wouldn’t budge. He looked down. The carpet by the door was red. He banged louder. He threw his body against the door. After relentlessly attacking the slat of thin wood, it busted. He covered her arms with thick towels. He held as tight as he could, tears in his eyes. He screamed for help. For someone to call 9-1-1. Nobody heard. He pulled his own phone out. The ambulance is on it’s way. He begs her to stay with him. He murmurs his love for her. His apologies. He’ll never understand why she did it. The hospital will hold her for two weeks minimum and he will wonder why she would want to leave him like that. He loves her so…

A young man walks upstairs. He knocks on his brothers door, wants to borrow his laptop. He knocks louder, assuming the younger boy is sleeping. He unlocks and opens the door to see the boy dangling from the ceiling. He doesn’t think before he lifts him up and out of the rope, all but throwing him on the bed. He calls 9-1-1 and screams for their Mother. She was putting the groceries away. He begins CPR, unsure what to do. The Mother screams when she enter s the room. She cries. Where did she go wrong, she will wonder. Was she to hard on him, she will ask. The hospital will hold him. Hopefully they found him before he gave himself brain damage. HE will never be the same. His brother will never be able to shake the image of his teen brother hanging by his neck from the ceiling. 

A woman will knock on the door, asking what is taking her friend so long. Water will spill from under the door. The woman will laugh halfheartedly, joking. She’ll take a bobby pin out of her hair and pop the lock, opening the door. She’ll yell about the rugs on the floor being soaked. When she looks at the tub, she’ll run to it. Her heels will click and slosh. She’ll drag her friend out of the water and shout for someone to call an ambulance. She’ll begin CPR. With every pump she’ll grow more concerned for her almost sister’s life. She’ll cry while she blows breath into her lungs. She will never be the same. 

Nobody will ever be the same, not after seeing what was behind those locked doors.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, random sadness. I has a tumblr   
>  ninjakiti.tumblr.com


End file.
